


Burn Your Kingdom Down

by worldturtling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks, Angels are the worst, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Castiel, Siren Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldturtling/pseuds/worldturtling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean eliminates what he sees as the common denominator for most of the problems in his life. He stumbles upon the solitary room full of dead puppets that wear his face.</p><p>That's where Cas finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn Your Kingdom Down

**Author's Note:**

> You never loved him-  
> Only the idea of him.

_Hell is coming_

Angels don’t understand the message, being sent up along the ranks. Did it get lost in translation?

_He is here_

It’s a demon, some say. But a demon couldn’t be in heaven. Impossible.

Before they can contact those who watch the gate, another message comes to them.

_Those who watch the gate are dead._

How? How are they dead? Who would do this?

Castiel doesn’t know how it’s possible.  He flies down to earth, can feel someone summoning him.

Crowley’s summoning spell, it turns out. Crowley is disassembled in the middle of it, his head divorced of his body, his sulphuric presence gone forever.

Panic seizes him.

He flees heaven bound now.

Angels lay dead across the floor. Angels have died in their own home, not from an angel blade, not by anything human.

He’s afraid to say the name now. Afraid to give it too much weight. He could still be wrong.

If it’s true though. If it’s true…

It isn’t him.

He searches rooms, finds some angels in a panic, unsure of where to go. Castiel wades past their thinning masses.

Heaven is vast but it is not, just as Angels are both everywhere and contained. Castiel holds his blade at his side even though he knows it will do no good.

Metatron is dead in his cage. Castiel is not surprised, but he looks over his shoulder, expecting to see a demonic grin. But the space behind him is suspiciously empty.

He leaves Metatron, his tongue drooping out of  a slit in his throat.

One room in the back of his mind he avoids. It’s the one room he should have probably looked into first.

Dead angels line the way. He makes his way to the home of his own disassembly.

Dean is everywhere. He litters the floor, bleeding and wide eyed and afraid of Castiel. They are all dead, though they were once animated. They are the killing floor of heaven’s factory dedicated to Castiel’s reeducation.

One Dean is alive. He kneels at the side of a puppet with blood blooming on the back of his jacket.

Dean looks up, black eyes.

Not Dean.

“You kill my kind, I kill your kind. Except you kind of beat me to the punch there too, didn’t you.”

“We cured Dean. Which Demon are you?”

He barks a laugh, flashing razor like teeth, though Castiel knows they’re as blunt as human ones. He stands as if slowly unfolding himself, and Cas sees the first blade gripped in his left hand.

“I told Sammy I liked the disease. But of course, when I speak you two shut your ears.”

“We can help you, Dean,” Castiel tries to reason with him, looking around for a way to trap it.

“So, Cas, I’m gonna guess all this was you?”

“Naomi.” Castiel can’t help but engage this point.  His black eyes don’t waver as he walks towards Cas in a slow lazy stride.

“Way I see it, the real poison to this earth here is you guys. Leeches. Demons, sure they create chaos. But they’re up front about it, honest. They know they’re scum even if they call us scum. You guys?” Dean points his blade at Cas and stands a few feet away. “Get away with everything and then whine about how your daddy doesn’t love you so you can fuck up the world and the people in it for the greater good. Or some bullshit. And you know, Cas, it’s a pain in my ass too.”

“Dean, think about Sam. He must be worried about you.” Castiel grips the angel blade. If only he could get a hand around Dean, but Dean’s keeping his distance.

“Cleaning up your leviathan mess? After you fucked my brother up and lied to me for a year. Now I’m just cleaning up your angel mess. Make sure that innocent girl you murdered didn’t die for nothing,” Castiel wonders at the righteousness this demon uses in his intonation, almost enough to make Cas flinch with guilt.

“I was manipulated, Dean. You know what. I was used by metatron.”

Dean alters his stance. Cas looks.

“And I was used by you. As a vacuum for your messes. So you know what I’m gonna do?”

Castiel doesn’t give him a chance to tell him. He rushes at Dean, knocks him down, tries to disarm the blade from him but Dean lets it go willingly.

And then Castiel is being kissed, thighs wrapping around his waist, hands being entwined into his hair.

“Dean?” He wrenches his face away, not quite believing. Green eyes look back, wide and afraid.

“Cas, I’m sorry,” his eyes are watering. Castiel hesitates above him. Dean’s hands pull him back down before he has a chance to get a thought out.

And Dean’s arms are as needy as Cas remembered, his mouth clings and his body draws Castiel in. This is Dean. And it confuses him.

And then he can’t think because Dean’s hips are knocking into his and he thinks about how long it’s been since…

It can’t be Dean. This isn’t-

He chokes into Dean’s mouth at a sharp pain injected into his side. Dean’s face below him, green eyes and the extra fat around his chin. It’s all entirely Dean looking up at Cas, as he shoves the first blade deeper into his side.

He looks around for anyone else, but all he sees are the puppet faces with glazed eyes and horrified mouths. And he looks down at their face, not smiling, but not frowning. Watching him curiously, almost detached.

It’s slow, he feels Dean dig the blade deeper, probably slicing into the soft stomach of his vessel but more importantly, taking away his grace and swallowing it into nonexistence.

He wouldn’t exist in any after life after this. Life after this dangles away. If anything would make sure death took, it would be the first blade.

If anything would make sure death took, a reluctant voice in the back of his fading mind said, it would be Dean.

And then he’s being tossed to the side, and Dean is drawing the first blade out with a rough shove of his body. He’s standing, and wiping the blood onto Castiel's trench coat.

“I say this sincerely,” the demon addresses him, “I hope no one ever finds you, and this whole place turns into a mausoleum of assholes who ruined my life.” He laughs humorlessly, and flashes black eyes, “literally.” They flash back to green. Cas somehow lost the ability to speak.

Then he lost the ability to exist. But before he loses that, he chooses to turn away from the demon and look into the eyes of one of the puppets he murdered. Their eyes were open wide, with fear and betrayal possibly. It’s throat was bruised. Castiel remembered choking this one.

Maybe the demon had a point.  

And then he remembered nothing.

-

**Author's Note:**

> You say you want to be king -  
> so when I burn your kingdom down, I’ll make sure  
> you’re still chained to the throne.


End file.
